


Right Hand Blue

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, M/M, character: megatron, character: optimus prime, genre: crack, genre: humor, kink: accidental stimulation, kink: exhibitionism, kink: flirting, kink: public groping, kink: voyeurism, rating: R - Freeform, smut: sticky, the amazing lb82, verse: g1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-05
Updated: 2012-10-05
Packaged: 2017-11-15 16:22:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/529233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Megatron's a cheating cheater who cheats.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Right Hand Blue

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** G1  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Pairings:** Megatron/Optimus Prime  
>  **Warnings:** aka The List of Kinks: Public Groping, Flirting Accidental Stimulation, Exhibitionism, Voyeurism, Implied Sticky  
>  **Notes:** Thank you to the OP for the fun prompt, but special thanks to the anon that spoke the line that became the title. You took a prompt I was hemming and hawing over, and made it something that not only did I HAVE to write for, but the twin cackled and swore art HAD to happen too. We hope everyone enjoys this! Primus knows WE did! LOL! [Here's the prompt](http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=10953694#t10953694)

“This is ridiculous,” Starscream sneered. Beside him, Skywarp snickered, helm tilted as he inspected the brightly painted circles on the cracked concrete.

Jazz chortled, shifting from foot to foot in giddy excitement. He held a large, hot pink, plastic whistle to referee with. It was a ‘gag gift’, but mech sized enough for Jazz, who had tested it out until Ironhide had threatened to cram it down his throat.

Soundwave stood, stoic as ever, beside Jazz. If he was annoyed, it didn’t show. His focus seemed to be held by the spinner Wheeljack had crafted to exacting specifications. Perhaps Soundwave was just concerned it would explode.

That had been suggested.

Optimus sighed. He really wasn’t sure how Megatron managed to convince him to try these outlandish contests for undisputed power. Did he really expect Optimus to ever fall for that ‘If I win, you leave the planet’ slag ever again?

Twice was enough.

Or was it three times now?

Whatever. He was going to win this. It was a human youngling’s game that Optimus had the benefit of having seen played by actual humans. It seemed straightforward enough, and he couldn’t think of a way that Megatron could cheat.

Antigravs, or _any_ device that negated gravity, had been banned immediately. Optimus was hoping that the meticulous care Prowl and Perceptor and even Soundwave and Starscream had paid to the rules would keep it an honest competition for once.

He was pretty sure he was a fool.

“Can we just get started already?” Starscream huffed. His wings twitched back as Megatron growled, fists clenching. “It’s just that we already know you shall win, mighty leader. Everyone is excited to get to your victory party.”

Optimus arched an optic ridge and shook his helm. Megatron was unarmed, but hardly what he’d consider safe. Even without the fusion cannon, none of Optimus’ officers were happy about how physically close they would be. He cycled his vents. Best to get on with it. “I’m ready.”

Megatron smirked over immediately. “Feeling limber, Prime?”

Jazz blew his whistle. “I’m with Screamer.”

“Don’t call me _that_!”

“To the mat, mechs!” Jazz continued, not even flinching with the rest of them at Starscream’s sharp tone.

Soundwave flicked the spinner. “Right foot; red.”

Optimus stuck his right foot on the nearest red circle, and watched as Megatron swaggered over to do the same.

There was a moment while the spinner spun, and then Soundwave’s soft monotone came again. “Left foot; blue.”

“When I win,” Megatron began, smirk cranked up to eleven, “this planet will finally be mine.”

Optimus rolled his optics, bending to reach his right hand out to a yellow circle. “ _If_ you win, _without_ cheating, you will still have to deal with the humans’ governments in an official capacity. That is part of the deal.”

Megatron’s hand took the yellow circle just next to Optimus’. “I know the rules, Prime.”

Optimus frowned beneath his battlemask at the purr in Megatron’s tone. He didn’t like Megatron that close either. He could feel the fuzz of his electromagnetic field, and was pretty sure it was intentional. “Perhaps you will even manage to follow them for a change?”

“Hardly my fault when you fail to see the larger picture, Prime.”

They both moved their right feet to blue circles as Soundwave called it out. “The larger picture that you’ll dig for a loophole no matter how dishonorable?”

Optimus leaned over to place his left hand in a green circle while Megatron tsked at him. He did not like how close Megatron was staying to him. “There are other circles over there,” he said, tipping his helm to indicate them.

“Why, Prime, one might think my proximity disconcerts you.”

Optimus narrowed is optics. “Over-clocked glitch.”

Megatron purred- _purred_ at him.

They shifted and reached as each new call was made. Megatron’s energy field was a deliberate caress within minutes, teasing along Optimus’ transformation seams. Optimus frowned, optics narrowed as Megatron leaned over him.

“I do like you under me, Prime.”

Optimus growled.

“I can imagine a variety of positions I would like you in.”

“It’s not going to work,” Optimus said, gritting his teeth as energy flared in a playful pulse against his sensornet. “You aren’t going to distract me into losing.”

Megatron’s helm tipped at the next call, and Optimus decided he wasn’t going to escape, so he should just go for the most stable position he could. He reached a foot out to a green circle.

Megatron’s optics dropped, smirk etching deeper. “If I’d known it would be so easy to get between your legs, I’d have suggested this ages ago.”

Optimus would have growled, but Megatron’s knee brushed his inner thigh. They both went still, a shock of electric pleasure jolting through Optimus’ systems.

He really had to stop living like a monk if _Megatron_ could wind him up that much with a bit of field play and a few suggestive comments. Distantly, he noticed the cheering quiet, then return even louder than before. Optimus didn’t trust Megatron enough to take his optics off him, but he could swear that some of those catcalls were coming from his own Autobots.

Soundwave continued on, monotone ordering new positions in very even intervals. Their mutual reaction only seemed to spur Megatron on, so Optimus gave up trying to discourage it. Instead, every time they moved, he’d let his own field shift and brush against Megatron’s. The first time the reaction had been priceless. The second time, Megatron had retaliated. Optimus almost lost his balance as a black hand stroked over and around his hip, giving it a slight squeeze before planting firmly on a green circle.

Oh? Was that how the slagger wanted to play?

Optimus upped the ante. They twisted and turned, and crawled all over one another to the hooting and cheering of their armies. Chest plating kissed, thighs brushed, and fingers dipped quickly into transformation seams before moving on.

Optimus was not unaffected, but it was difficult to care or feel embarrassed when Megatron’s face was so close to his. Red optics had long since gone garnet in arousal, and Optimus couldn’t help but think that he could use this.

The question was how? He was in a mostly stable position, both hands on green circles under his own back. His left foot was planted firmly on a red circle while the right braced him now from a yellow one only a slight stretch away. Megatron had retained his place on top, but he was in more of a lunge, with both of his hands to either side of Optimus’ shoulders.

Megatron choosing his red circle was what decided Optimus. He pushed up with his foot as Megatron’s right leg lifted over his left thigh. His interface panel was hot on Optimus’ leg, their faces close enough that Optimus’ soft, low purr resonated between them too quiet for the others to hear.

“You could always throw the match,” Megatron suggested. “Double or nothing in a more… private venue.”

“You wish,” Optimus whispered back, then chuckled, rocking so his thigh rode against Megatron’s panel. “You _really_ wish.”

Soundwave’s voice cut in again with an even, “Right hand; blue.”

Megatron’s hand lifted, and Optimus was trying to decide how to twist over. His right arm would need to cross his body. He’d be in a completely unstable position until the next time he could move a foot.

Optimus was still considering his limited choices as Megatron’s hand came down.

Right.

On his.

Codpiece.

The crowd roared, and Optimus felt his face heat. Megatron’s optics brightened, and Optimus knew that even if the noise kept everyone else from hearing it, Megatron had most definitely _felt_ the panel locks disengage.

“I propose a draw so we can negotiate a further cessation of hostilities.”

Megatron’s optics flickered. “Agreed.” His hand _slowly_ left Optimus’ interface panel, then reached, palm out to help Optimus up.

The cheering was a din of indistinguishable sounds in Optimus’ audials as Megatron hauled him, gyros spinning with hot need, away from the game. He wasn’t sure where they were going. That row of bushes would work. There were trees too. That’d block the view enough that-

Oh. The old hanger. Yes, that was better.

~

The sharp _skree_ of old metal wheels scraping their tracks sounded as Megatron pulled the rolling door shut, closing himself and Prime in the hanger they’d entered for some private time.

Jazz cackled until he thought he might be sick.

“Well, that’s lovely. Now what?” Starscream snapped.

Sideswipe and Sunstreaker shared a look and smirked back at the seekers.

“I think it’s high time we refined our Jet Judo skills, bro,” Sideswipe said, stepping up to the side of the playing area.

Sunstreaker joined him, arms crossing over his chest. “Yeah. Bet they’re too chicken to do it though.”

“Hey! Who you calling a chicken?!” Skywarp stomped up, facing the twins across the game’s painted circles. Thundercracker followed, looking resigned except for the deep glow of his optics.

Jazz shared a look with Soundwave, then blew his whistle. “Players to the board!” All optics went to Starscream.

“I hate you all, and I plan to kill you in your recharge,” he said calmly, walking forward.

Jazz chortled as everyone cheered.

Soundwave flicked the spinner.

**Author's Note:**

> [Right Hand Blue by LB82](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7263307)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [LB82](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LB82/pseuds/LB82) Log in to view. 




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